


cheek to cheek

by thelittlestbishop



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, Emily has a crush and she's not that good at hiding it, F/M, Gen, Theyre having a blast and they shouldnt let Emily drink, team as a family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-01 06:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12699036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlestbishop/pseuds/thelittlestbishop
Summary: Rossi throws dinner parties because he's the Adult(tm). There's a lot of wine and there's dancing and Emily might not be as good at hiding her emotions as she thinks she is.It's late and they're careless and free and happy and he's not SSA Hotchner and she's not SSA Prentiss, he's Aaron and she's Emily, and she's completely enveloped in the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his arms with a pleasant buzz running through her body that is half alcohol intoxication and half his fault.





	1. Chapter 1

Dave becomes the unofficial host for team dinners after Emily's return, all of his own volition no matter how much he gripes about it. Movie nights are Garcia's territory, but if the evening activities involve anything more complicated than ordering takeout on the phone they go to his place, where he commandeers the kitchen. Not everyone is a skilled cook (Emily and Spencer), so those people are in charge of setting the table and pouring drinks. And the music selection, if the team is feeling particularly generous.

It feels good to have life in the house, to hear laughter filtering like moonlight through windows and doors. 

They are all full of good food and snacks, and the third bottle of red wine has been uncorked when Garcia starts playing music on the living room stereo and pulls both JJ and Emily along so they can dance together. Spencer and Derek join in once the dishes are done, setting all the wine glasses down on the coffee table before stretching out their arms to dance with the girls.  
Everyone is laughing and grinning, even Dave and Aaron as they watch the scene from behind the kitchen counter. 

They're a family and seeing each other this happy and carefree and human always helps to lift everyone's spirits, no matter what happened earlier in the day. 

The look of unadulterated bliss on Aaron's face tells Dave he feels just as happy as the giggling group in the living room, who have at this point moved the furniture out of the way, much to his chagrin. 

Derek's voice thunders through the hall to reach them above the music, "We need one more dance partner. Don't leave the girls hanging, y'all know they've got guns." Everyone laughs at this, moving along to the rhythm, and Emily and JJ each twirl under Derek's hands, flushed cheeks and crinkled eyes. As the song ends Emily bows out and collapses to the couch, watching as Spencer pulls JJ in for a complicated and fast-paced dance that leaves the blonde woman bent over with laughter. 

Her hands rest on her knees as she catches her breath and watches her friends, a soft smile spread on her lips. Her breathing rate has returned to normal by the time the next song plays, and a hand comes to rest on her shoulder, spreading warmth over her skin even through her sweater. She looks up to meet Aaron's eyes from where he stands behind her on the couch. 

"You heard Derek. Can't risk getting shot because I didn't step up, come on," he says with an amused smile, offering his hand out as he walks around the couch to stand in front of her. Her eyebrows are up in surprise but she puts her hand in his and stands, tugging him with a bout of laughter to the middle of the living room to join the other two duos dancing to the happy sounding song. 

Derek and JJ cheer as they join, swirling around and hair whipping about. She gasps when Aaron bends her back and pulls her back up swiftly, and he laughs at her reaction before she can roll her eyes at him. 

"I didn't know you danced, Hotch," she says, tilting her head to speak into his good ear before she does an elaborate twirl under him. 

"You don't _actually_ know everything about me, Emily," he replies effortlessly, and the use of her first name catches her off guard enough that she nearly stumbles but tries to pretend that she was merely going to pull him over to JJ to exchange dance partners. Arching one eyebrow at him as she moves into Spencer's arms she keeps her eyes on the chief even as she moves around the room. When her back is to him she pretends not to feel his eyes on her and excuses her own behavior on the third wine glass she finished and hadn't yet burned off with the dancing. 

As a slower paced song plays, and Spencer controls the movement of his feet so they can sway in place for a moment, she meets Dave's eyes from across the room, and she can feel her mouth go dry and her stomach knot up at the knowing look in his eyes. She can't possibly be that transparent. Yes, they're trained profilers, but she's a trained _spy_. Still, she can feel her heart beat faster and faster against her ribs as Dave smiles and toasts her from the kitchen. 

"Emily? Emily." Spencer is trying to get her attention and she blinks, pushing the thoughts away as she meets his concerned eyes. 

"Yeah? What is it?" She asks, her voice too faint for her liking. 

"Are you okay? Your heart rate went up." 

She laughs because of course, he'd notice. Patting his arm she nods, trying to reassure him. "Don't worry. Just... I guess the wine went straight to my head. I'm fine." 

"Hey, boy wonder! It's my turn," Garcia calls from behind her and she lets go of him with a sigh, noticing his unsure look. 

"Go on. Can't leave Garcia waiting," she insists, pushing him just slightly to get her point across before he steps away and into Garcia's arms. 

Emily lets out a sigh before two arms wrap around her shoulders from behind and she can't help but feel her anxiety spike once more until Derek's voice fills her ears. "You haven't had that much wine, Emily," he says simply, turning around so he can sway with her. "What's going on?" 

It's an innocent question, but she doesn't have an answer that won't unleash a full-blown interrogation upon her. Meeting his eyes she shrugs, struggling to respond, and his eyebrows shoot up in concern as she turns her head again. "Missy, you got something you wanna tell me?" 

He gets a laugh out of her at least and some air finally gets into her lungs with that. "Uh, yeah, I'm not drunk enough to let you call me 'missy'," she shoots back, stretching her arms to put space between them as she shakes her head and moves along to the music. 

"See? I knew you weren't drunk. Why won't you tell me?" 

"Because nothing's going on, Derek, you're overanalyzing things," she whispers, scrunching up her nose as she steps away. "I'm gonna go get some water." She steps away and can still feel his concerned eyes trailing her until she gets to Dave's side and he hands her an already full glass of cold water. "Thanks." 

"You're not as smooth as you think you are," he tells her before taking a sip from his wine, and she nearly chokes. Passing it off as a cough she wipes at the corner of her mouth to clean up the small spill. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." It's lame and weak and she's kicking herself over the answer, but it's the best she can come up with while in shock. 

"They might accept that you're just tired, you had an extra glass of wine... But I'm not just a pretty face. And I was doing this since you were probably in diapers. I know that look." 

Her entire body is tense at this point and she finishes her drink so she can wash it and have something to do with her hands. "Whatever you think you saw you didn't." She closes her eyes at her own denial. She's giving herself away on a silver platter. With a sigh, she finally turns to see his face, a pained expression on hers as she tries to buy herself time to come up with a decent excuse, but he kills her hopes of that happening when he speaks up again. 

"That bad?" He asks with a chuckle and her eyes widen before she groans. 

"You're the worst, Rossi," she mumbles and shakes her head as she walks away, taking the half-full bottle of wine along with her to refill the glasses. She takes a few long drinks and tops off her glass again before retiring to the sliding glass doors that give away to the green expanse of the yard. 

The cool night breeze nips at her face and she counts her breaths in between sips until this glass, too, is empty, and she sets it down on the small table behind her. With her arms crossed over her chest, Emily stares out into the darkened sky. 

Only to nearly jump out of her skin a moment later when Aaron walks up behind her and calls her name. He looks amused by her reaction but doesn't laugh, and she's grateful for that. Giving him a self-deprecating smile she turns to face him, pushing the hair out of her face. 

"Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." 

"Don't worry about it," she says, waving a hand in dismissal as she pivots to look back into the house, intent on walking back to the group when his arm reaches out in front of her, and she stops dead in her tracks as his hand slides gently down her arm.

"Do you need to talk?" His voice is quiet, careful so that they're not overheard by anyone, not that she's particularly worried about that, not with the music and the laughter. 

Her smile turns a little more honest as she shakes her head, watching his face closely. "No. No, I don't need to talk. I'm just tired," she explains and, in a surge of courage that she'll later blame on her continued consumption of wine, takes his hand and walks back to the living room so they can have one more dance. She takes both his hands and swings them about with the music, letting herself laugh as she shakes off her reservations and enjoys the moment. The bright smile on his face is reward enough for ignoring the gnawing worry that she's being too transparent about her emotions. 

It's late and they're careless and free and happy and he's not SSA Hotchner and she's not SSA Prentiss, he's Aaron and she's Emily, and she's completely enveloped in the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his arms with a pleasant buzz running through her body that is half alcohol intoxication and half his fault. Some part of her mind tells her that the room is quiet and the only thing she can hear is the crickets from the yard and the slow-paced music that goes straight to her bones, but it's all fallen away into the back of her brain, filed into a box that says that none of it matters. 

Dave is watching from the kitchen but she can't care, not now. Not when she's holding Aaron so close to her and she can feel his breath behind her ear. She doesn't want to see the look on his face, though, or Derek's or JJ's, so she closes her eyes, and now he's truly all she can think about. He has invaded every sense, every fiber of her being. Her fingers are tight in the fabric of his sweater and she's sure her ring will leave a mark on his fingers from the strength she's using to hold on, as if that would force him to stay right there with her, forever. She breathes him in, pressing her cheek against his shoulder to hide her own face from (well-meaning) prying eyes. If this is all she gets, she's going to commit every detail, every second, into her memory.

Her smile is still there, although faded and restrained as parts of her fight one another. She can't be doing this, she _can't_. It's unprofessional, he's her _boss._ But his hand feels soft and inviting wrapped around hers and the other one is spreading warmth on her back as he holds her close. It's the first time she realizes maybe she's not the only one holding a little more tightly than strictly necessary. She opens her eyes and is unsettled to find him watching her as if he was waiting for her to see him, too. Her lips twitch around her smile, unsure if the look on his face is of approval or otherwise.

She never gets a chance to find out, though, because the melody ends and the next is some upbeat rock song that startles both of them enough to let go of each other to look at the stereo. Thankfully everyone is doing the same and there are no questioning looks, though she refuses the urge to look back into the kitchen. Her friends' laughter fills her ears until they're ringing and she squeezes Aaron's hand one last time before slipping from his hold to step away to the bathroom.

Emily comes out refreshed and with a steeled resolve, ready to dodge any questions that come her way, but as soon as JJ offers to drive her back to her apartment since she's had so much to drink, she knows she's not going to get home unscathed. She collects her coat and purse, hugging Derek and Spencer on her way before she waves at Dave and thanks him for the dinner. There's a small pause as if everyone is holding their breath as they wait to see what happens next. She meets Aaron's eyes from across the room and nods. "See you on Monday, Hotch," she calls out, then turns on her heel and heads out into the cool night. 

The giggling from the two blondes begins as soon as the car doors close and Emily leans back and smiles. At the very least they might have some useful advice. And if all else fails she can say she was too drunk to know what she was doing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You're the reason there are fraternization rules set in place for the BAU, Rossi. I can't."_
> 
>  
> 
> _"You have my blessing."_
> 
> _She actually laughs then. An honest to god laugh that catches her by surprise and he smiles, triumphant._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally didn't expect to write another chapter, but I'm Super deep into the hotcniss trashcan and my friends are terrible influences and I love writing these idiots.

Aaron Hotchner isn't one to dread Mondays, so the fact that he's stalling to get to the office speaks volumes. Still, he arrives early -earlier than the rest- and gets to work. He's the Unit Chief, he has endless mountains of paperwork to get done and miles of red tape to sort through.

Forty minutes later and he hasn't accomplished much more than re-reading the same three paragraphs over and over again, unable to make the words have any sort of meaning in his mind. It's too busy at the moment doing the same it's been doing for the entirety of Sunday: going through the evening he spent with the team having dinner and drinking and dancing. If he's being honest it's only the last part that he can't get out of his head. 

He still feels as if his hands are burning from where he touched her skin and his brain recalls the smell of her perfume clinging to her hair until he feels like he's choking. 

He needs to stop. This is utterly unprofessional and wrong. He can't think about his teammates in this way.

But it's not his teammates, it's one. It's her. It's Emily.

With a start he shoves his chair back with a loud scrape, trying to shake off all these thoughts. It's not until he's standing that he sees Dave hovering around the doorway, eyebrows up in a silent question as he holds two cups of steaming coffee.

"Good morning, Aaron," he says simply, stepping inside and offering the startled man a cup of coffee.

"Morning. Do you want to talk about something?" He asks, because why else would Dave be there so early and trying to ply him with caffeine?

He nods, half closing the door behind him before he sits on one of the chairs in front of the desk, leg crossed over his knee as he regards the chief silently.

It's mildly unnerving, but he waits a few more moments before speaking up, "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Not at all. I was waiting to see if you brought it up, but since you won't... Do you want to talk about what happened the other night?"

A sigh of relief leaves Aaron quickly and he sits back in his chair, both elbows resting on the desk as he looks at his friend.

"So I'm not imagining things," he says, closing his eyes as he relaxes at the realization. Dave is smiling when he opens them again.

"No, you're most certainly not. What are you gonna do about it?" He speaks with a smirk and a glint in his eye tells him that he's enjoying it, and Aaron isn't sure why Dave is so pleased by his suffering.

"I don't know. I have no idea why Prentiss is upset. I can't figure out what I did or said or... I keep drawing a blank." The words come as a rush, glad that he has someone to discuss this with, someone with a different point of view to help him understand what kind of mess he's in. But Dave's look of shock doesn't give him any hope.

"What are you talking about, Aaron? Upset?" The older man stands, picks up his coffee and turns around. "It's entirely too early to deal with this. I can't believe- Upset? I..." He's heading to the door and Aaron is staring in shock when Derek knocks and steps in. Dave sighs in relief. "Derek. Please, talk some sense into the man," he begs, before stepping out.

Derek gestures with the files in his hands towards Dave as he walks back down to the bullpen. "What was that about?"

Aaron wasn't planning on telling the entire team about his struggles, but since his one hope just walked out without offering any advice he'll take whoever he can get. "I don't know what I did that upset Prentiss," he admits, keeping his voice low so it doesn't carry through the office.

His subordinate blinks at him blankly a few times then frowns. "You think Emily's mad at you? You're kidding, right?"

Aaron's blank stare and tilt of his head are answer enough.

"You're serious? Okay, alright... Hotch, I don't know what was going with Emily that night, but one thing I can tell you is that she was not mad at you. Whatever she was feeling it wasn't angry or upset."

"What?" He asks flatly because his mind can't wrap itself around these new discoveries, they don't fit in the narrative he's been weaving for over twenty-four hours. Derek approaches the desk and drops off the files, then raises his hands up to his chest as he walks back, still facing his boss.

"I don't know what to tell you, man. You should probably talk to her." He steps out after that, leaving Aaron staring at the door for a full minute before he recovers and looks over the paperwork that had just been dropped off. 

Five minutes later, when he looks through the cracked blinds he can see Emily and JJ getting their tea and coffee respectively, chatting as they stir their beverages. If she wasn't angry, then why had she been acting so strange?

He doesn't approach her though, not even when he goes to refill his coffee. Maybe the wide berth he puts between him and her desk is a little obvious -why does he always have to walk by her desk to get coffee?- but no one mentions anything. And yet, somehow, as he walks back he manages to find her face and his body tenses at the sight of those wide brown eyes. Just as he gets back up to his door he can hear JJ laughing by Emily's side, taking a few glances towards his office. He shuts the blinds. Maybe that way he can actually focus. 

He ends up taking an early lunch, just to get away from the suffocating sensation that the walls are caving in on him as his mind replays the last song they danced to.

\-----

She doesn't miss Dave's smirk as she walks into the office that morning and she directs a glare in his direction as settles at her desk, looking through the newest paperwork she has to work on. She can't keep dwelling on what happened. It was one night. One night, and too many drinks. She has to remember that.

Alternatively, she has to forget about her stupid little infatuation with Hotch, she feels like a teenager all over again. It's so _childish_ , the way her heart flips in her chest and her stomach turns on itself when she thinks of him a little too long, or she sees him bent over in concentration over his desk. When did it get this bad?

But JJ won't let her forget and Emily has never been glad before that Garcia doesn't sit at the bullpen with them on a regular basis, she would not be able to withstand sustained attacks on all fronts. 

She makes her tea by JJ's side and they chat about nothing, small talk that is inconsequential but she prefers over having to talk about Saturday again. Derek walks up to them after stepping out of Aaron's office and she feels her heart beat a little faster, though she keeps stirring her tea calmly. 

"Hotch thinks you're mad at him," he says without looking at her, fixing his own cup of coffee. Emily turns to look at him anyway, trying to decipher if he's lying to her to get some sort of reaction.

"Mad? Why would I be mad at him?" She questions, eyes narrowed for a second before she throws a cursory glance towards his office. He's looking away, so she takes a moment to trace his expression, then turns back to her friends.

"Hey, I make myself no illusions that I know what goes on inside that man's head, I'm just letting you know what he told me." He finally looks up, meeting her eyes just as JJ chuckles and walks away.

"This is gonna get messy," she whispers into her ear before going back to the desks, chatting up Spencer about something she did the day before. An odd feeling of consternation grows in the pit of Emily's stomach.

"Did he say anything else? Did he say why he thinks I'm mad at him?" She's staring studiously into her cooling tea, trying to act normal and fully aware she's failing completely.

"Nope. Just told him he should probably talk it out with you. You still don't wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Nope." She turns on her heels and goes back to her desk without another word.

Later, when Aaron walks by her desk and puts a ridiculous three feet between himself and her desk she can't help the sharp stab she can feel inside her ribcage. Is _he_ mad at her for how she acted? She grumbles into her cup, turning her chair around to look for JJ's eyes, but finds herself staring right at him, meeting his gaze for what feels like hours but was mere fleeting seconds. The moment passes and she forgets why she had turned in the first place, so she focuses on the report on her computer, ignoring JJ's laughter as she nudges her with a sharp elbow.

Her heart sinks at the sound of the shutters closing with finality.

But she can't stop thinking about him.

When he leaves for lunch, much earlier than his usual time, she doesn't even try to look at him. She pretends he's not there, pretends the report she's working on is the single most important thing in her life for the next few seconds, even though she hasn't written a single word in ten minutes. 

Spencer makes some comment about how many times Aaron has left early before, but she tunes it out and tells her mind to _focus focus focus._

Another ten minutes pass and she gives up, standing up with a groan that calls the attention of her friends. Something she was hoping to avoid, but it's no use now. Everyone seems ready to pounce on her, but Dave beats them all to it and wraps an arm around her shoulders to walk her out towards the elevators.

"You and I need to have a little talk."

It feels like she's being walked to her own execution.

\-----

Dave treats her to lunch, but it doesn't stop feeling like an interrogation even as she picks at her fish. 

"Emily, you have to understand, Aaron is as clueless as they come when it involves women," he tells her matter of factly and she stares at him in disbelief. 

She opens her mouth to protest, tell him that _she doesn't have feelings for Aaron Hotchner_ , but he interjects before a single vowel has left her lips. 

"Don't give me that look. You think no one else has noticed what's going on?" He says quickly, eyebrows rising in a challenge. "He can't look at you, you haven't spoken a single word to him today, and neither of you has gotten any work done. You're both clearly preoccupied with something. We're not stupid, Emily."

"I never said you were!"

"I know, I know. Actually, Aaron might be a bit of an idiot, since he thinks you're mad at him. I don't know how he got that idea in his head."

"I can't believe you're doing this. What am I supposed to do? Do you think he's upset about what I did?" She chews her lip briefly, then washes down the worry with a sip of water.

Dave sighs in exasperation. "Please, not you too. He's as mad at you as you are at him."

"You said it yourself, he can't look at me!"

"For the same reasons you can't look at him! You two are so deep in denial you can't see the other feels the same."

"I don't have _feelings_ for him. He's my boss." Her voice has a hard edge to it and she's trying her best to believe the words herself, but they feel empty. He calls her out on it easily.

"So?"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she turns her head away because he's seeing straight through her and she can't bear it. "Please remind me why I put up with you?"

"Because you love me and I'm treating you to lunch. And I give fantastic advice."

"Uh, no. You haven't given me any advice."

"Go out for dinner with him. Talk about it." He says it as if it's the easiest thing in the world, the obvious choice for them.

"Pfft, what? That's terrible." She can't help the look she throws his way, the one that says _you're crazy_ but with fondness in her eyes. He knows her well enough to understand it.

"Don't knock it 'till you try it."

"You're the reason there are fraternization rules set in place for the BAU, Rossi. I can't."

"You have my blessing."

She actually laughs then. An honest to god laugh that catches her by surprise and he smiles, triumphant. 

"Emily, please," he starts, and the sudden seriousness in his voice makes her smile falter until she's swallowing past the lump in her throat as if the fish has somehow stuck to it. "It'd be good for both of you. Think about it. Just... Try. I want to see you happy."

The honest emotion in Dave's voice and open expression makes her stumble over her thoughts. His hand reaches over the table and she takes it, one side of her lips curling into a smile that she's only half trying to fight back.

"You're a hopeless romantic, David Rossi," she tells him softly, watching his thumb run over the back of her hand.

"Why do you think I got married three times?"

They laugh the whole way back to the office, her arm looped around his as they enjoy the late October chill.


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, everyone knows. She steps into the office after lunch and sees their smirks, their teasing eyes. They've figured it out. JJ will pay for this later, she'll make sure of it. She nearly walks back out, but Dave is pushing her forward and she has to fight back the childish urge to stomp her feet and whine because _it's not fair_ they can't all know. 

She turns around even though Dave is right behind her, blocking the way, because she can't do this, not yet. She hasn't even come to terms with it herself, she can't bear all those eager faces awaiting, starving for details of the newest office gossip. She throws her friend a pained expression, grazing her hands over his shoulders as a plea to let her go, but now Aaron is behind him, pushing through the double doors. Dave moves, and she hates him for it because now she's in front of _him_ , their friend by the side and the team behind her. There's hardly any sound around them, but maybe that's just because her heartbeat is drowning out everything else. 

Aaron tilts his head, a deep frown in place as he speaks up. "What's wrong?"

His tone is so flat, so indifferent that she feels white-hot anger flare in her chest and spread through every limb. He doesn't _care_ about her. What was she thinking? That he returned her feelings? How stupid of her. Aaron Hotchner, the patron saint of repressed emotions, wouldn't have romantic feelings for one of his subordinates, someone he started out hating. She's clearly been projecting her own feelings on him.

How could she have believed there was ever the slim chance he felt the same way she did? And she played right into Dave's hands, let him rope her in further into her own self-destruction. And now everyone knows. Everyone knows about her stupid crush on her stupid boss and there's nothing she can do.

So she takes a deep breath, locks her jaw and puts on a sardonic smile as she meets his eyes, stepping around him smoothly. "Nothing's wrong. I have to go, excuse me," she enunciates each syllable perfectly as she walks through the glass doors. She has nowhere to be, and it's irresponsible to just walk back out of the office after her lunch because she's throwing a tantrum, but she can't be there any longer. 

She doesn't know where she's going, has no idea where her feet are taking her, but she doesn't falter as she steps into the elevator. Through the doors she has left behind she can see her friends, JJ, Spencer, and Morgan studiously looking over some files that might as well be blank papers. Dave watches her unflinchingly, something akin to pity in his eyes that she hates. And Aaron... He looks at her until the doors slide closed, no clear expression on his face except mild confusion for her unexplained departure. She'll tell JJ to say she has a doctors appointment, she owes her at least that after she helped Derek and Spencer figure out what was going on. 

As soon as the only thing in her field of vision is the shiny metal she slumps as if a spell has been broken, and she winces at the sharp pain in her chest that has replaced the quick-burning anger. 

She has made a fool of herself, at least in her own mind. 

Emily ends up driving around the city for about forty minutes, watching the families out on the streets to enjoy the last warm days of the year. She ends up buying aspirins and what-not at a pharmacy, so her excuse won't be a complete lie. She returns once she feels clearheaded enough and goes straight to her desk without a word to anyone. Her friends, thankfully, know better than to talk to her right then.

Because she's not going to get her work done and not think about her boss, about the dimples that show once a month and make him look boyish under the lines in his face. She's not gonna do that because that would be unprofessional, improper, just as thinking about the way his cologne carries through the air when he passes by her desk makes her shiver. That'd be inappropriate. 

It's gonna be a long day.

She does get most of her paperwork done, eventually, though she stays later than the rest. She waves from her place as the team files out one by one at different times. JJ asks if she wants to go to dinner, but she rainchecks for another night. She's finally focused, and without the team there with the constant threat of questioning hanging over her head, she feels like she can breathe a little easier. 

Eventually, she's the only one left in the bullpen and the office is dimly lit save for the personal lamp on her desk she's turned on while she hunches over the last file. And there's the light from his office, too. Whenever she glances up she can see his profile bathed in the warm glow of his lamp, illuminating him softly. She hates that it takes her breath away. 

The paperwork eventually ends and she rolls her neck with a sigh of relief and a longing for a dinner that isn't liquid and caffeinated. She stands and gets her stuff in order. Logically she knows she should just walk up to his office and drop everything off before retiring for the night, but all she wants to do is put as much distance as possible between them so she can get over it, get over him.

Just as if he had sensed her thoughts he looks across the bullpen as her light switches off, and she's left staring at him in the darkness. Might as well get it over with. 

She straightens her spine as she picks up the folders and walks the few steps to his office, knocking gently before walking in. Her steps don't falter on the way to his desk and she even gives him a fleeting smile as she sets down her work. And then he speaks up.

"Do you have a minute? I'd like to have a word with you." His voice is impassive and, as soft as it is, it cuts into her.

"Do you think it can wait until morning? I'm exhausted. I- But if it's about earlier, I'm sorry. I completely forgot about the appointment, but it won't happen again," she goes off like a rocket, leaving no spaces for him to interject, though his mouth opens to do so. By the time she's done talking she's at the door again, where she holds onto the frame as half her body hangs in.

His shoulders deflate a little and he gives in, nodding as he picks up his pen again. "That's good enough for me. Good night."

"Night, Hotch." She forces her pace to stay slow and casual and to not match her now racing heart. She also pretends not to feel his eyes on her back until she gets through the glass doors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2900 words on a new chapter because I do that now, apparenly. Sorry to drag out the hotchniss, this is writing itself i have no control over it

In hindsight, she should've seen it coming. Derek calls her the next morning before she's even showered, and leaves no room for arguments when he tells her where to meet him for breakfast with the promise of 'the best god damn waffles you've ever had' So she goes, better to get it out of the way without an audience around the corner.

"I feel like waffles with whipped cream fall into the category of dessert and not breakfast."

"Do I look like I care, Emily? Look at them and tell me you don't want to eat them."

"That's not what I meant."

He gives her a look as he stuffs another bite into his mouth and wipes off the cream from his chin as she watches in amusement. Once he has swallowed he meets her eyes. "You know you can talk to me, right?" 

She knows where this is going, but she's gonna stretch it out if she can. "You make it sound like I'm in trouble or something."

"No, no. Just... Come on, Emily. What are you gonna do about Hotch?"

Her eyes narrow at him as she frowsns, stabbing a piece of waffle. He watches her expectantly.

"I'm going to get over it," she says simply, shrugging as she tries to act more nonchalant than she actually feels. 

"That's bull," he states and his fork points at her menacingly. 

"You can't just call bullshit on what I say."

"Just did. Cause it's bull. You see him every day. You spend more time with us and at the office than you do at home. You can't get over someone when you see them that often."

"What do you suggest I do? Date our boss? That's insane."

"Why?"

"Wh- Because he's our _boss_."

"I know you're trying to pin this on the regulations, but I'm not buying it. None of us would ever rat you out. Either of you. We've got your backs." He's giving her a look at that says he believes his words wholeheartedly and will defend what he's saying until the end. She hates his determination. 

"Derek..." She sighs, shaking her head as she tries to come up with a rebuttal. A small part of her wants to argue that even then, they'd always worry about going out in public, they'd always be looking over their shoulders, afraid someone will see them. That's she's afraid she won't enjoy taking Jack out because of the same fear. She doesn't say any this, though, because it would betray the fact that she's even considered that, that she's thought about the long haul, along with its many pitfalls. 

God, she's in too deep.

"Emily. Don't shut down on me, not again. It's just Hotch."

That makes her want to laugh. Just Hotch. As if it was that simple. As if that man wasn't a dozen different versions of him (she wants to know all of them). As if he's not one of the most complicated people she's met (she wants to unravel every mystery he carries). As if, as if, as if... And yet, in the end, he _is_ just Hotch.

Emily meets Derek's eyes across the table and gives him a sullen smile. "I can't do it. It's too much."

"Em-"

"Please let it go. I need all of you to forget about this, it's what I'm gonna do."

"Are you sure?"

"I have to try. Finish your waffle, we're gonna be late. And you owe me an hour in the gym after making me eat this."

"You know you enjoyed it."

\-----

Aaron steps into the office on Tuesday morning in worse shape than the previous day. Rationally, he knows he should be fine. Jack is happy and healthy, the team is in perfect shape and adjusted to having Emily back, they haven't yet been called away on a gruesome field trip... And yet there's something bothering him, something that should be nothing but a passing bleep in the radar, an afterthought, but it has latched onto him and grown until it threatens to crush him under its weight.

Emily is pulling away from him. Actively putting space between them, to be fair, he did the same, but he thought that's what she needed, or so he told himself. But today has shown no signs that her attitude towards him has shifted and it feels like a knife to the gut (he would know).

Just the previous night he had wanted to discuss whatever was bothering her, because something was, even if she wasn't _mad_ , but he had given in at the first out she offered. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge any of it. Now it's a new day, and he knows they're in the same place as the day before. 

He's watching her greet Spencer as she walks in with Derek and he is so taken by the sight of her that he doesn't realize Dave is once again at his door with two coffees. He doesn't sit this time but clears his throat to call Aaron's attention as he walks up to the desk.

"If you ask me again why Emily's mad at you I will throw my coffee at your face," he says casually, setting down one cup on the desk. 

"Thanks," Aaron says, for the coffee and for the warning.

"Actually," the older man begins, and Aaron can't help but wince. "I should tell you that if you want to avoid second and possibly third degree burns there's something else you should do. Grow a pair."

Aaron's looks up, startled and wide-eyed in his shock. "Excuse me?"

"Talk to her."

"I tried-"

"Don't just try. Do you know why she's acting weird yet?"

The unit chief's answer is a sullen silence and Dave feels like screaming. "For such an amazing profiler you're an absolute idiot when it comes to women."

Something clicks in his mind, and for a second it feels like he's running out of air.

"Prentiss?"

"Ah... There we go." He looks entirely too pleased with himself.

"How was I supposed to-"

"I do not want to hear your whining, Aaron. Go talk to her. And I swear mention regulations and I might still throw this coffee at you."

Dave walks out and Aaron gingerly pushes his own steaming cup away. 

His productivity goes down to around ten percent because all he can really do is become mildly obsessive as he analyses his interactions with Emily for the past few weeks. 

It makes sense now, of course, it does, and he feels like the biggest idiot in the world. 

And then there's the matter of what to do with this information. 

If he's being honest -truly, wholly, _painfully_ honest- with himself he can accept that he, too, has feelings for her, but he's not usually that open about his emotions with anyone, and that includes himself. 

So he focuses on the biggest issue.

They can't do anything about it. They _shouldn't_ do anything about it.

They work together every day, they're on the same team... But he can't stop thinking about how perfectly she seemed to fit in his arms, and the smell of her perfume creeps up on him in his memory when he closes his eyes. 

He wants her to be in his arms every day, he wants to wake up to the smell of her perfume as she's getting ready in the morning. He wants to be with her. He wants her so much it hurts. He has to do something about it. 

He drinks his coffee in record time, remembering Dave's threats as it scalds his tongue but he doesn't mind, he's more focused on the fact that it's nearly time for Emily to make her cup of tea and he doesn't want to miss that window of opportunity.

He walks up to the coffee pot as she's warming up the water and he hates the way she tenses her back as if preparing to flee. His eyes are stuck on the swirling coffee as he stirs sugar into it because he can't bring himself to look at her, and when did he become such a coward? 

He gathers his courage at once, clearing his throat.

"Would you like to get to dinner with me?" Her hand tightens on her mug, the only initial acknowledgment he gets from her since she continues staring into the barely boiling water. 

"I'm sorry?" She asks quietly, and her fingers around the empty cup twitch instinctively up towards her mouth. She wants to bite her nails. He hates that it's his fault. 

He turns to see her profile in the harsh fluorescent light. "Dinner. You and me. If you want."

She finally moves her head to meet his eyes, and hers are narrowed at him. "Why?"

"Because Dave threatened me with bodily harm if I didn't, quote-unquote, grow a pair," he tells her, cracking a smile which she thankfully returns and it feels like it lights up the whole world.

"He said that to you?"

"Yeah. I was threatened, repeatedly in fact, with hot coffee and I really like my skin without second and third-degree burns. Thought I'd take his advice."

She laughs and his chest feels light.

"So he's the one that gave me up?"

He doesn't answer her because he doesn't want it to sound like she's done something wrong. Instead, he watches her for a moment, trying to calm his nerves.

"Say no and we'll forget this ever happened," he offers because if she needs an out he'll give it to her. He thinks he'd give her anything she could ask for. 

"They wouldn't let us forget," she says, tilting her head just enough to signal who she's talking about. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see heads turned towards them, holding their breath. 

"Fair enough, but it's still up to you. Let me know." He picks up his coffee to leave, turning back towards the bullpen, where everyone is suspiciously concentrated on their paperwork. 

Before he can take two steps he hears her sharp intake of breath and he braces himself for the worst before she speaks.

"Yes."

He turns and she gives him a smile so wide it feels like he's going to come apart at the sight, but he nods almost imperceptively. "Perfect. We can iron out the details later, without so many eyes around."

She laughs and nods in agreement, staying in her place as she watches him. 

He walks away and his heart is hammering so strongly in his chest it feels like an actual ache inside him.

From his office he sees her walk back to her desk with a grin she's unable to hold back and he thinks he's okay with the pain as long as she's happy. 

\-----

Aaron agonizes for a few hours, trying to come up with a place they can go to dinner that doesn't feel overly stuffy or overproduced. Once he settles on a spot he looks out to find her and when he meets her eyes he feels a chill run through him. 

He hasn't felt this kind of nerves since he joined the theatre club for Haley and that makes his stomach knot up in a completely unexpected way as apprehension washes over him.

She smiles and so does he, and he just wants to get the awkward first date out of the way already. He catches himself with that thought, knows he's getting ahead of himself, thinking that they'll go on more than one date, that they'll be _something_. But he also knows that's what he wants. He wants it to mean something, he wants them to be special. Because _she_ is. She's so special, so important to him. That last fact takes him by surprise, how easily she got under his skin and found a home there, always there for him. It feels like his entire body is vibrating with anxiety and excitement in equal measure.

He waits for lunch time to come around and most of the agents have left when he heads down to her desk and he realizes that he's smiling more today than in the previous week.

She looks up from her notes and returns a half-hidden smile, and there's a flush to her cheeks when he watches her. She speaks up softly, "Hey. Are you going to lunch?"

"Yes, in a minute. I just wanted to talk to you first."

She laughs nervously, meeting his eyes. "Okay. That's not ominous or anything," she teases, and he loves the way she uses humor to play off her nerves.

"I'm not here to cancel or anything. Do you remember that place we went to for Morgan's birthday? Garcia recommended it."

"Yeah, yeah. Josie's, I think. Why?"

"I was thinking we could go there. Tonight, if you're free."

He can see the faint surprise on her face, sees more than hears the surprise inhalation she takes before she recovers. 

"I'm free tonight," she mumbles, eyes wide, "I'm free." 

"Yeah?"

"Tonight is good. I'd like that."

"Perfect, I... I'll pick you up at seven?" He can barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heartbeat. 

"Seven's good. I'll be there."

"I'd hope so," he says with his own nervous laughter as he gathers his jacket and stands, bowing his head slightly as her cheeks burn. His heart hammers until he's in his car. 

\-----

Her friends would say she’s panicking, but she’s not. She’s not panicking, she’s just stressed and analyzing and overthinking things and… Yeah, she’s panicking.

One hundred percent panicking. She sends a message to JJ before standing and heading to the bathroom to wait, checking the stalls are all empty over and over until the blonde walks in. 

"What’s wrong?” Her voice is soft and Emily can’t help but think it’s her mom voice, she’s defenseless against it.

“Hotch asked me to dinner,” she whispers, glancing around the empty stalls nervously, but JJ seems to forego the worry and apprehension, jumping straight to unadulterated happiness for her friend. 

“He did? Oh my god, see? It wasn’t just you, I told you. Is that why you were all smiles earlier?” JJ takes Emily’s hand in her own, forcing her to meet her eyes with a grin. 

“Yeah, but now that passed and I’m freaking out. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Come on. Take a breath. Why wouldn’t it work, Em?”

She stares at her friend, struggling to find words before she slumps against the sinks, squashing the childish urge to scuff her toe. “I don’t know. What if it turns out we don’t actually like each other? That this is just a massive mistake on our part and we’re gonna fuck up what we already have?”

“Honey, you’re just nervous. That’s good, it’s normal. That means you care.”

“Well, of course, I care. I want it to go well.”

“And do you really think he’d ask you out hoping it goes awful?” 

JJ is calm and soothing and Emily is both thankful and wants to beg her to stop, wants her to tell her it's a bad idea, that she should cancel.

It doesn't happen. 

“Of course not.”

“He wouldn’t do that and you know it. He’s probably just as nervous as you are.” 

“Uh huh, I doubt it. That man represses everything," she says, letting herself put on an awry smile. 

“But he did ask you out, didn’t he? That’s big for him. Come here, you’ll be fine.” JJ squeezes her tightly for a moment, then rubs at her back to comfort her. “When is it happening?” 

Emily bites her lips as she takes a breath. "Tonight. Seven." 

"Oh my god, that's exciting." JJ quickly takes her hands and squeezes. "Do you want me to come over before? I can help with outfits."

"You're so nosy," Emily teases, shaking her head with a bright smile. "I'll let you know. Do you wanna go get lunch?"

"Yes!"

"Ah, you get five questions about this and then we change the subject," Emily tells her quickly, fixing a glare on her friend before walking out. 

When they get back from lunch Aaron's carefully guarded mask is back in place and everyone is summoned to the briefing room where they're each handed a tablet. 

Her stomach drops as they take their seats and she knows it's selfish to worry about her personal life in the face of such violence, but she still throws a last pained glance towards Aaron before focusing on the files in front of her.


End file.
